


try, try again

by inseaslikethat (Sotong_sotong)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Challenge: Sport Anime Shipping Olympics | SASO 2016, Confessions, Crush at First Sight, M/M, Pining, and Oikawa's liberal usage of love arrows, cupid!Oikawa, featuring head-over-his-heels!Hanamaki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 06:19:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8133479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sotong_sotong/pseuds/inseaslikethat
Summary: Looking back, it wasn’t love at first sight.It was more like one minute Takahiro’s holding hands with his sweetheart, then the next minute some jackass with angel wings lands in front and skewers him through the chest with a heart-tipped arrow. (In which, Oikawa is a haphazard Cupid and Hanamaki is, in turn, haplessly crushing on him.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sports Anime Shipping Olympics 2016: Bonus Round 5 - Myth & Lore.
> 
> This is pure self-indulgence in which I just wanted to come up with an AU where Hanamaki's hopelessly smitten with a certain Cupid who's struck his heart not just once, but twice.

When their fingers brush and his date smiles ever so beautifully, Takahiro smiles too.

He smiles, he closes his eyes, and he wastes their time because honestly, the hole in his heart is already waiting for somebody else. And if the person beside him thinks it’s their jokes he’s laughing at, then, well, ignorance has always been bliss.

(He’s just laughing at a tell-tale huff and the hiss of a drawstring pulled back.)

He’s waiting for a Cupid’s strike, and when it comes, it _stings_ ; Takahiro’s vision blooms pink, his giddy mind celebrating _how nice of you to stick through me again, Mr. Arrow, why don’t you never leave_ , and it should be sad how he’s come to this, but the matter of fact is he _has_ come to this.

Like a playlist on repeat, Hanamaki Takahiro falls in love— though not with his current date nor the forty-odd-or-so string of people he’s tried to be something more to.

(For the sake of specifics, he’s already sort of _in_ love, he’s just falling over and over again so he gets to keep seeing the object of his long-suffering affections: the Cupid himself.)

Softly, somewhere, he hears a bossy _“make sure this one lasts!”_ and gods, does he want to smack the voice’s owner— maybe kiss him senseless too if the idiot ever lets him.

Because the Cupid may be an agent of love but he sure as hell is blind to it when it says hi from the other direction.

 

*

 

Looking back, it wasn’t love at first sight.

It was more like one minute Takahiro’s holding hands with his sweetheart, then the next minute some jackass with angel wings lands in front and skewers him through the chest with a heart-tipped arrow.

“Dude, the hell—?”

“Oh, you can see me? That’s new.” Brown eyes squint at him harder than Donald Duck on a rampage, then, the guy smirks all impish and beautiful as he notches another arrow and _oh_.

Oh no.

Before he can dodge, he’s shot through once more, and in the haze of blossoming feelings, he hears wings flutter, along with a laugh too smug for comfort.

“That one’s for good measure!”

The bastard flies off pleased as punch like a romance movie hero backlit by a dying sunset, leaving his paramour to weep and count flower petals in his absence…except Takahiro’s no lovesick maiden, but a lovesick man pining for the wrong target.

(You’d think he’d have fallen deeper for the person he’s currently going out with after all that, but _ha!_ Apparently, the opposite just had to happen.)

So, it wasn’t love at first sight; it was love at first why-did-I-just-fuck-myself-over.

 

*

 

After Takahiro parts ways from his date, he feels a draft of air _whoosh_ behind, and sure enough, it’s _him_.

“Osu,” Takahiro lazily greets and turns around to ruffle the guy’s hair. “Good job, Cupid-san. Any chance of telling me your name today?”

His hands are swatted away and he gets the edge of a bow to the face; Takahiro grins as the Cupid huffs and puffs like a steam engine running on irritation, pointing an accusing finger and grumbling, “ _No!_ Not if you keep falling in and out of live like this! You’re ruining my stellar track record, you know?”

“Oh? How stellar is stellar?”

“I’ll have you know I’ve made 69 successful pairings out of 420 victi— I mean, _assignments_ — and you’re being this one stubborn black spot on my list!” The Cupid finally winds down from his outburst. Takahiro just manages to stop himself from patting his head; no matter how much the guy reminds him of an affronted Pomeranian, he doesn’t particularly fancy a few arrows stabbing him again. “Okay, what’s your deal? What’s making you still be a pest? I may be underdressed for it but humans are notoriously squishy—“

He pulls the guy’s cheeks and sighs, long and tired, weary of further nagging.

(Takahiro has always gone for the noisier ones and this guy, supposedly the representation of love and all its ~~not so~~ delightful connotations, is really going above and beyond any of his earthly expectations.)

Well, as the saying goes: if at first you don’t succeed, try, try, try again.

Promptly, Takahiro ducks his head and sticks out a hand. “I’m Hanamaki Takahiro, age 23, student, currently trying to woo this idiot in front of me, so please just give me your name and I’ll go nurse my dumb feelings somewhere else.”

And well, what do you know, he feels another hand slotting into his. Feels it grip and twist so hard Takahiro’s wrist hurts but holy shit.

The Cupid’s answering smirk is— ironically— made of stuff that breaks hearts, and Takahiro feels his quavering. “Since you asked so nicely.” Sliding closer, a menace in his groove, he tilts forward to press a kiss on Takahiro’s cheek; the sensation of it _zings_ over him sharper than any arrow of love. “My name is Oikawa Tooru.”

When Takahiro finally looks up, all he can do is mumble out a, “Oh, thank god, you’ve finally got the memo.”

(For better or for worse, the hole in his heart begins to fill.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
